


Operation Christmas Cookies

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: Baking, Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 09:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17041238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: Eliot's prepared for a lot of things.  He doesn't think he'll ever be prepared for baking with Hardison and Parker.  But it's Christmas time, and he promised, so here goes nothing.





	Operation Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [azebra117 (idkimoutofideas)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/idkimoutofideas/gifts).



          Situations like this require a plan of attack.  Everything needs to be just so, or else the whole operation could collapse.  Eliot’s been preparing for weeks, stocking up on supplies and honing and improving on exactly what needs to happen for things to go off without a hitch.  This is a difficult operation.  It requires attention to detail and down-to-the-second timing.  

          He surveys the room.  It looks like everything is in place.  His equipment is ready, as are the supplies.  He does one last scan of the room when -

          “Damn it, Parker!”  Eliot storms out of the kitchen.  “Hardison, you were supposed to make sure she didn’t steal the chocolate chips!”

          Hardison glances up from his laptop.  “What?  Oh, yeah, man, she did that like twenty minutes ago.  They’re gone.”

          Parker looks up from a nearby booth.  The empty chocolate chip bag is in front of her.  She frowns at Eliot.  “I didn’t steal your backup bag.”  She says, like that’s supposed to make everything better.  

          Eliot takes a deep breath.  They haven’t even started baking Christmas cookies yet and things are already veering off the plan he had.  Time to regroup.  

          “Okay.  We’ve got ten different types of cookies to make.”  He says.  “The ovens are already preheating.  Are you two coming to help?”

          Parker bounces up and skips towards the kitchen, her jingle bell adorned headband jingling as she moves.  “Duh.”  She says.  “Christmas cookies are the best.”

          Hardison shuts his laptop and follows her.  “They’re not all for us, Parker!”  He calls.  Looking back at Eliot, he shrugs.  “Doubt she’s gonna listen.  You sure this is a good idea?”

          “No, but it’s too late now.”  Eliot says.  Parker’s been looking forward to today all week.  They’ve got a day off and enough ingredients to make cookies for the whole neighborhood.  Parker had mentioned a couple of weeks earlier that she’d never made Christmas cookies - not entirely a shock, given that she lived mostly on cereal and hadn’t had a real home until years after she started working with the team, but still odd for someone who loved both Christmas and cookies so much.

          The thing is, though, that Eliot’s tried baking with Parker before.  And Hardison, for that matter.  It’s always ended in disaster, which was why he was so focused on prepping as much as possible beforehand.  He’s got Christmas baking down to a science.  But today - today is going to get messy.

          Eliot hands Parker the first recipe, a simple sugar cookie recipe that he’s perfected over the years.  “These go first because they have to refrigerate for a couple hours.”  He explains.  “Ready?”

          Parker bounces up and down on the balls of her feet.  “Ready!”  Then she pauses.  “Wait.  We need to be more festive.”  

Eliot’s about to ask how - because she’s already made him and Hardison wear Santa hats and decorated the entire brew pub - but then she turns on the radio and tunes it to her favorite Christmas music station.  

          “There.”  Parker says.  “Now we’re ready.”

          The sugar cookie dough is made mostly without incident, minus a few snuck bites from Parker that Eliot manages to limit enough that her stealing won’t affect things too much.  Hardison only drops one egg on the floor, which is a major improvement from the last time they tried anything like this.  Eliot still shudders when he thinks of the mess the whole damn carton of eggs had made.

          The sugar cookie dough now safely - fingers crossed - tucked away in the fridge, Eliot moves onto the next cookie on his list.  

          The chocolate chip cookies are a little light on chocolate chips, but they’ll do.  Parker is happy, at least, and when she’s this happy it’s hard for Eliot not to be happy himself.  Hardison is watching Parker with a dreamy smile, so it’s not a far guess to think he feels the same way.

          The next recipe is one he got from Hardison’s Nana the last time they had dinner at her house.  Hardison gets a little misty-eyed when he sees Nana’s handwriting on the piece of paper.

          “How’d you manage this?”  He asks, squinting down at the recipe.  “This is, like, her top-secret, her-eyes-only nutmeg cookie recipe.  No one gets this.”

          “I’m charming.”  Eliot says.  He leaves out the part where Nana pinched his cheeks and told him that if he ever gave the recipe to another person she’d chase him down personally.  Eliot’s faced a lot of threats in his life, and he’d never heard one quite as scary as Nana’s.  She’s a tough old lady.  

          Hardison gives him a look like he knows anyways.  That’s probably fair.

          The nutmeg cookies also have to refrigerate, so while Eliot finds room for them in the fridge he puts Parker in charge of starting the next cookies - gingerbread.  He returns to find the molasses _everywhere_ but the mixing bowl, oozing across the counter and slowly dripping onto the floor.  Suddenly the whole carton of eggs doesn’t seem so bad.

          “What happened?”

          Parker looks remarkably smug.  “Wasn’t me.”  She says, and it’s her mostly-truthful face that she’s making.  “Hardison bumped my hand when I was adding the molasses.”

          “Okay, no, see, she was about to just dump the whole jar in.”  Hardison interjects.  “And you always say that you can’t just make up your own measurements, so I tried to grab her arm to stop her.”

          Parker frowns.  “But molasses is yummy.  We should add more of it.”

          Eliot saves his favorite spatula from the slow-moving molasses blob.  “Too much molasses will change the cookie texture, Parker.”  He says.  “Help me clean this up.”

          The molasses - mostly - cleaned up, they return to baking, and Eliot vows to keep a closer eye on things.  

          Somehow, though, the mishaps seem to be behind them.  The gingerbread dough is finished and nothing happens at all - not even a stolen bite - while they make thumbprint cookies.  The shortbread is made without incident.  Eliot’s almost starting to get suspicious.

          “Hardison -”  He says under his breath.  “What’d you do?”

          “Bartered.”  Hardison says with a smile.  “Told her she could have the bag of chocolate chips if she didn’t eat that much dough.  Didn’t think it would work, to be honest, but I think it has.”

          “Huh.”

          It takes a few hours to make all the dough and bake all the cookies, even with the several huge ovens in the brew pub kitchen.  They’re frosting the sugar cookies - the last ones to be finished - and plating the cookies for the local businesses on their block.  

          “There.”  Parker says, dumping a ridiculous amount of sprinkles on a cookie.  “Now we’ll definitely be on Santa’s nice list.”

          “I - what?”  Hardison looks up.  “Girl, are you bribing Santa with cookies?”

          “Maybe.”  Parker says.  Under the stares of Hardison and Eliot, she frowns and says, “I mean, we’re always stealing things.  Even if it’s for a good reason.  I don’t know if Santa likes that or not, so I wanted to make sure.”

          Hardison still looks like a fish gaping at Parker, so Eliot speaks instead.  “I’m pretty sure Santa approves of what we do.”  He says.  “But if not, the cookies will definitely convince him.”

          Parker studies him for a moment before breaking out into a smile.  “Good.”  She says.  “Come on.  We’ve got to deliver all these cookies around the neighborhood.”

          Eliot watches her bounce out of the kitchen, jingle bells jingling merrily.  Operation Christmas Cookie might not have gone exactly to plan (and his kitchen might look like a complete nightmare), but he’s pretty damn happy anyways.  

         

 


End file.
